In Sunlight and In Oils
by CelticX
Summary: Yumi Fukuzawa never attended Lillian Girls' Academy. So why has she been forced to endure visions of a raven haired beauty for the past seven years?
1. Chapter 1

A/N: I promised Seyan that I would post this one next. So this one is for you, Seyan. I hope you enjoy it. ^_^

Disclaimer: I do not own MSGM or any of its characters. All such honors belong to Oyuki Konno.

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><p>Yumi Fukuzawa sighed and gently put her palette down on the table beside her before dropping her brush in a can of turpentine. It was finally done. One more down, but it had been one of the most painful so far. She looked up at the newly completed portrait and wiped the tears from her eyes. Why was God tormenting her like this?<p>

She _thought_ she had lived a fairly normal life, and there was certainly nothing unusual or special about her. At twenty-three years old, she had lived her entire life in this small, rural town on Hokkaido. She had gone to the only school within biking distance of her home; a single building that supported classes all the way from kindergarten through high school given the miniscule population in the area. She had attended a small, local art school after graduation and then obtained her teaching certificate. Now she was a part-time art instructor in the same school she had spent so many years of her life.

Physically she was nothing much to rave about either. She was of average height, although tending to the shorter side, and she had the body of a young teenager hoping desperately to go through a late puberty. In other words she was boyishly slender with few real curves and she had long ago given up any hopes of having to buy C-cup bras. She had mousy, medium brown hair that had a tendency to frizz which was why she typically pulled it up into pigtails. She had large, medium brown eyes that would shed tears much more quickly than she ever wished. Her face was more round than narrow – in other words relatively unremarkable – with a fine chin and a small nose. She had been called "cute" most of her life. Every so often she heard the word "beautiful" come from her father's or mother's lips, but she figured that overstating a child's looks was probably somewhere in their job description. And while she was accomplished in and had been praised by everyone for her one true love, art, her grades throughout her schooling in all other subjects had been only average. So she had no major or distinguishing accomplishments in her youth, nothing special in her appearance or intelligence; absolutely nothing to really single her out as to why she had been so _blessed_ with what she had been forced to go through for so long.

She had started having the dreams just after the summer of her sixteenth year. Almost every dream she had had since then was of the girl portrayed in oils on the canvas in front of her. She had no idea who the girl was. Yumi knew that she had never seen her before. Someone that beautiful would have stood out in her memory, even if she had only seen her in passing on the street. Now, seven years later, she had amassed an even dozen portraits similar to the one now sitting complete on her easel. They were all of the same girl, her long, waist length, raven black hair cascading down her straight, aristocratic back; the features of her face exuding the classical beauty of Japan. She was lithe and supple, her form that of a girl growing into the body of a young woman. You could read the grace by which she moved in her posture, in how she stood and in how she held her arms and hands. But it was always her eyes, her deep sapphire blue eyes that held such poignant pain and sorrow which troubled Yumi the most. Not in any of the many portraits Yumi had painted of the girl was she truly smiling. Oh, the girl's lips curved in the form of a smile in some of the paintings leaning up against the cream colored walls of the one bedroom studio Yumi lived in behind her parent's house in the town of Ashoro, but in none of those portraits did that smile ever reach her eyes.

Almost all of the portraits she had painted were set facing the wall. Yumi could not bring herself to look at them each and every day. Nor could she stand the feelings of frustration and resentment that she sometimes felt emanating from the girl in those portraits. It made her feel guilty and she could not for the life of her understand why!

In this latest portrait the figure, just a girl really, was positioned just right of center of the canvas. She stood in profile to the viewer, her hands clutched to her breast and her face raised towards the heavens as if in prayer; beseeching the almighty for something that would never be. The shaft of light in which she stood highlighted the tracks of tears that could be seen on her high cheekbones as they traced their way to her chin. Moisture collected in the corners and lower lashes of her right eye. A single tear hung defiantly from the corner of her jaw. The lips of her mouth were tightly pressed together, holding back the sobs that Yumi was certain were beating in her breast trying desperately to escape. She wore a one-piece school uniform of a green so dark it was almost black, with a pleated skirt, white sailor collar with a fine line of matching dark green, and a white scarf tied in a knot. Dark brown, somewhat clunky shoes with turned down white socks adorned her feet. Everything around her was much darker and indistinct unless studied closely. If you took the time to really look at her surroundings you would see that she stood in a lovely greenhouse filled with plants and flowers. The only plant caught in the shaft of light was a small, half-meter tall rosebush with red flowers and small green leaves positioned behind the girl. Clutched in her hands was a silver rosary trailing a long necklace of matching beads. That same rosary figured in most of the paintings.

Who was this girl and why was she in such pain? And why had she invaded Yumi's dreams, both sleeping and waking, for the past seven years? Yumi could see her even now if she just closed her eyes.

Over a year and a half ago she had started researching school uniforms, trying to identify the school that used the uniform portrayed in most of the paintings. It had taken so long, but she had finally found a small, prestigious, all-girls academy outside of Tokyo that used the uniform. Yumi had never been to the island of Honshu, let alone anywhere near Tokyo or the small suburban city of Musashino. A little late night snooping in her school's records room had resulted in finding no one that had transferred from Lillian Girls' Academy anytime within the last twenty years. Students _left_ her little rural farming community as fast as they could. They _didn't_ transfer in. As far as she knew her father and mother had been the last newcomers to the little community over twenty-five year ago. They were still sometimes referred to as "the new folk" although it seemed they had finally become accepted members of the community sometime shortly after Yumi had been born in the local hospital.

With another sigh Yumi stood up from her stool and grabbed her digital camera off the much abused end table that also held most of her supplies. She stood back and focused the little camera so that the portrait just fit into the viewfinder if she turned the camera on end. She pressed the shutter and then switched modes to see the result. Satisfied with the photo she plugged the camera into her computer and printed a 5x7 glossy off her photo printer. She gently placed the photograph in an envelope and put it in her purse, checking one last time to make sure she had her airline ticket and boarding pass before turning around and grabbing the large sports bag she was using in place of real luggage. Walking from the entrance of her combined studio and one bedroom apartment to the back door of her parent's house took less than a minute.

"Mom, are you ready?" she called as she entered the kitchen.

"The question is, Yumi, are _you_ ready?" her mother, Miki, chuckled as she walked into the kitchen from the dining room. "This is your first trip to 'The Big City'. Are you sure you have everything?" she asked as she grabbed the car keys from where they hung on a peg next to the refrigerator.

"I figure I'll only be gone for a few days, Mom; a week at most," Yumi grinned, "I think I can go that long without the taste of your wonderful home cooking; but it _will_ be a sacrifice," she said with a grin before giving her mother a hug.

"Are you really sure about this, Yumi?" her mother asked with sudden concern in her eyes as she held onto her daughter's shoulders, "I mean, it is such a long way, and there is no guarantee you will find what you are looking for."

"I have to, Mom," Yumi said tiredly, "I'll go insane if I don't at least try to figure this out. None of the doctors have been able to help. Drugs, psychotherapy, hypnotherapy, sleep therapy, acupuncture, none of it worked to get rid of the dreams. Now I'm starting to see them even during the day. Every time I try to put brush to canvas, the same thing happens. I start out trying for a still-life or a landscape and end up painting her portrait again. This can't go on. Something is pulling me and I just have to stop fighting it and go with the flow. If I'm lucky, if I can find out anything about her, or even just if she ever really existed, then maybe I can get my life back."

"I know, honey," her mother said with a gentle smile as she stroked her daughter's hair, "I'm not trying to stop you. I'm just worried. You _will_ call me when you get to your hotel won't you? You've got your cell?"

"Of course, Mom," Yumi grinned. Having her parent's support her in this wild goose chase was more than she could ever have hoped for. She had been ready for the arguments but they had never occurred. They had simply asked her if she needed any money. She knew they were worried about her, probably as much as she was about herself if not more so. It was just one more reason why she loved them so much. "But I won't be able to call you if we don't get moving," she chuckled.

Her mother laughed and put on her lightweight jacket to ward off the early morning chill of these northern climes. "Then let's get moving girl, daylights awasting."

Yumi joined in her mother's laughter as they headed out to the car and the long trip to the airport. She was suddenly nervous, but everything she had said to her mother was the truth. She _had_ to find this girl, or find out that she did not exist, if she had any hope of holding on to what was left of her crumbling sanity.

-oo-

The small J-Air Embraer E-170 commuter jet touched down at Haneda Airport early in the afternoon of a gorgeous, early fall day. The flight from Tokachi-Obihiro Airport had only taken a few hours, most of the time spent getting through security despite, or maybe because, all she had was her carry-on luggage.

Just getting this far had taken a decent percentage of her savings. Her family had offered to pay for her airline ticket but Yumi had graciously declined. She still had plenty to handle the hotel for a week without seriously depleting her resources. It helped to save money when there was little-to-nothing to do in her small town. Her only real expenses were her art supplies that she ordered from a small, discount distributor via the internet.

She took the train to the M station in Musashino and then a local bus that deposited her just outside the largish but inexpensive bed & breakfast where she had rented a room for the week. The B&B was located within a few blocks of one of the gates for Lillian Girls' Academy. By the time she got to the quaint, Japanese style home it was already four o'clock; too late to go to the school. Besides, she had an appointment with the academy's Director at ten the next morning. Showing up in the woman's office unannounced a day before her appointment would be very bad manners, and Yumi's mother had brought her up properly.

The inn's proprietor, a slender young woman with short dark hair and glasses by the name of Kei Kato, surprised Yumi with how young she was to be in business for herself.

"I get that a lot," Kei laughed when Yumi asked her about it. "When I was in college at Lillian U, I lived here with a wonderful old woman by the name of Yumiko Ikegami who owned the place at the time. She passed away a couple of years ago and left the place to me in her will. All her family had already moved on or died and I was the closest she had to a daughter to leave it to. I turned it into a B&B to supplement my income as an independent accountant." Kei explained all of this with a smile while she led Yumi to a small cottage located inside the grounds of the old estate.

The cottage was only three rooms: a combined living room/kitchen, a small bedroom, and a bath. Despite its diminutive size it was very pretty and well kept. The rooms were bright and airy, painted mostly in pastel colors that were calming and pleasing to the eye. All of the appliances in the kitchen were new and of high quality. There were no telltale rust stains in the sink that would indicate a persistent leak and the insides of the small refrigerator and oven were spotless. The kitchen cabinets and drawers contained an assortment of pots and pans along with some plates, glasses, and utensils. A bright red rice cooker was set on the counter between the sink and the stove. Looking around, Yumi could tell that Kei really adored and cared for the place despite what she said about it simply being something to provide a little additional money.

Yumi thanked the young woman, who first warned her that no men were ever allowed on the grounds without prior permission – and never overnight unless they were your husband – and then told her that breakfast would be served at seven the next morning since Kei had to get up early for an appointment with a client. Yumi assured her that the time was fine and that she would be there, whereupon Kei-san handed her the key and left her to unpack.

Yumi took out the two good dresses she had packed and hung them on a rack in the bathroom where the steam from the shower she planned to take later that evening would ease any wrinkles they had accumulated during the short flight. There was a TV set up in one corner but Yumi had never really gotten into watching any shows. There was a DVD player with a small collection of movies as well, but nothing that she was really interested in just then. A thin guide to local dining sat on the top of a small desk in one of the other corners of the living room. Opening it she saw that someone had put a post-it next to and highlighted a notice about a local dim sum restaurant called Mama Cho's. Whoever it was that had marked up the book had also written "Great!" and "Cheap"!" in large letters next to the restaurant's description.

_Well, I guess I now know where I'm going to be eating dinner tonight_, Yumi giggled to herself.

-oo-

"Tamura-sensei, your ten o'clock appointment, Fukuzawa Yumi-san, is here to see you," the clerk announced before ushering Yumi into the large, wood paneled office.

"Tamura-sensei," Yumi said, bowing as she entered the large office the next morning, "I apologize for disturbing you. I know you are a very busy woman and I appreciate your taking time out of your schedule this morning to meet with me."

"Nonsense, Fukuzawa-sensei," the grey haired woman rising from behind her desk said with a smile that reached all the way to her sparkling, blue-grey eyes. She was a little over weight, but her energy, more like that of a person thirty years her junior, was evident in the way she moved. "It is always a pleasure to meet a new friend. My, my, you are a young one aren't you?" she giggled.

"Excuse me?" Yumi asked confusedly as she shook the hand that the Director offered her. The older woman had a firm but warm grip, neither domineering nor standoffish. Yumi felt like she was being given a gentle but friendly hug rather than a simple handshake. She decided that she liked the Director very much.

"Don't mind me, child, just talking to myself; and please call me Kaori, everyone does, including the students," she chuckled. "How about we take a seat by the window where we can be more comfortable," she said as she indicated a pair of chairs by a large picture window overlooking the grounds of the tranquil campus. "Can I offer you some tea? It's not too late for English Breakfast blend is it? I can also offer a wonderful Earl Grey or a soothing green tea."

"Um, ah, thank you Kaori-sensei, that would be lovely. I'm happy with whatever you will be having" Yumi said, nonplused at the friendliness of the older woman.

"Then, Eri-chan," she said to the waiting clerk, "could you please bring us some tea; whatever is freshest."

"Of course, Kaori-sensei," the clerk smiled warmly before leaving and quietly closing the door behind her.

"Now, Fukuzawa-sensei . . ."

"P-please, Kaori-sensei, call me Yumi," Yumi grinned.

"Ah, what a pretty name," the Director sighed, "I knew a woman by the name of Yumiko-san, lived not too far from here . . . wonderful woman. Too bad she passed on not too long ago."

"I'm staying at her home, or should I say her former home. I must say that Kato-san must truly love the place the way she is keeping it up."

"Oh, that's so nice to hear, thank you. I always liked Kei-chan. A good head on that girl's shoulders. She'll go far if she lets herself."

Yumi couldn't believe how things had been going so far. She already felt as if she had been adopted into some large family, it was so surprising; and somewhat disconcerting.

"But, back to the topic at hand," the Director grinned at her, "what brings you to us today, Yumi-chan."

"Actually, I was kind of hoping that you might be able to help me, Kaori-sensei," Yumi replied as she reached into her purse and withdrew the envelope and handed it to the older woman. "It may sound a bit crazy, but I was wondering if you could please take a look at that photo and tell me what you think."

"Hmm?" Kaori-sensei replied with a bit of a question mark before she opened the envelope and withdrew the photograph. "Oh, this is wonderful, Yumi-chan. Most applicants bring a resume, maybe a couple of letters of introduction or recommendation, that sort of thing. Well, I guess as an artist, things might be done a bit differently . . . oh, but this is beautiful! Did you paint this yourself?"

"Um, yes, Kaori-sensei, I did, but I am afraid that there may be a misunderstanding. I'm not here for a job."

"Oh, you're not? Oh dear, my apologies," the Director sighed. "When I heard that an art teacher had asked for a moment of my time, I just assumed . . . but this really is remarkable. Our previous art teacher retired at the end of last term, she got married and moved to Kyoto, and we have been looking for someone to replace her ever since. If this photo is anything representative of your usual work, I don't think that I would hesitate to recommend that you be hired."

"Um, that is very kind of you, Kaori-sensei, but, actually . . . "

"I do have one question for you, if I might, Yumi-chan," Kaori asked, looking closely at the photo while seeming to ignore Yumi's comments.

"Yes, sensei?"

"Why is the Rosa Chinensis crying?"

"E-excuse me, sensei?" Yumi squeaked, surprised first that the Director had noticed the subject's tears in the small photo of the portrait, but more surprised at the seeming title she had used. "R-Rosa Chinensis?"

"Um, yes. It's the title we use for one of the three elected officials of the student counsel here at Lillian . . . at least in the high school division," she explained, still looking at the photo rather than at Yumi. "The other two are Rosa Foetida and Rosa Gigantea."

"B-but that means . . . this photo . . . this portrait . . . is of a real person?" Yumi squeaked again, unable to believe what she was hearing. Was it possible? Her hands were trembling where they clutched the arms of her chair, her knuckles white and her heart thumping rapidly in her chest. A sweat broke out on her brow.

"Of course, child. What do you mean? Didn't Sachiko-sama pose for this?" Kaori asked, finally raising her eyes to look at her visitor once again in confusion.

"S-S-S-Sachiko-s-sama?" Yumi stuttered as she tried to repeat the name, finding herself hyperventilating at this new revelation. A name? The girl had a name? _She was real!_ Not just a figment of Yumi's imagination, but a real person! She found herself sitting forward, leaning towards the Director almost in desperation, before she suddenly she felt herself falling as everything began to turn black.

"Oh dear . . . was it something I said?"

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><p>Ah, the start of a new story is always exciting. I hope you enjoyed the opening chapter. As always, your reviews and comments would be greatly appreciated.<p>

Take care,

CX


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you all for giving me the very best first chapter ever! I do apologize for misleading you into thinking that Yumi is older, but all will become clear as you read below.

In partial apology, and in all thanks to everyone, I humbly offer you chapter 2 for this Memorial Day.

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><p>As Yumi slowly regained consciousness she realized that she was no longer sitting in a chair in the Director's office, but instead was in a bed in what was most likely the school's infirmary based on the curtains surrounding two sides of the small bed. Two people sat in plastic chairs at her bedside: Kaori-sensei and a woman in a white lab coat over a smart looking lavender skirt and blouse outfit. <em>She must be the school nurse<em>, Yumi thought before the full situation occurred to her and she froze.

"So, our little birdy is finally awake," the nurse grinned.

"Ah, um, I-I'm so sorry Kaori-sensei . . ." Yumi said meekly.

"There is absolutely nothing to apologize for, child," Kaori said gently, placing her hand on top of Yumi's where it lay on top of the bed sheets, "I obviously did not know the full situation when I started spouting off at the mouth. If anyone should apologize it is I. However, if you would now like to tell me and Sadako Inoue-sensei here what this is all about, we are certainly willing to listen."

Normally, Yumi would have been extremely reluctant to say anything about her dreams and visions to a complete stranger, but for some reason she found herself unburdening herself about everything related to her visions that had occurred to her since she was sixteen, including all of the doctors, psychologists, and various therapists she had seen to try to find out what was going on in her head.

"You mean to tell me," Kaori asked her with real concern in her expression as she squeezed the hand she still held gently, "that all of the portraits you have painted of Sachiko-sama over the past seven years have been based solely on these visions? And you had no idea until I mentioned her name that such a person actually existed? Oh my! Inoue-sensei, have you ever heard of anything like this?"

"Do you really want me to tell you about all my esoteric training while employed at a Catholic girl's school?" the nurse loudly laughed.

"Forget I asked," Kaori replied with a grin.

"B-but, she really exists?" Yumi asked again, still unable to believe what she was hearing.

"She does child," Kaori told her with a gentle smile. "Her name is Sachiko Ogasawara and she was a student here until, hmmm, when was it, about five or six years ago. She went on to Lillian University and graduated just two years ago. I heard that her grandfather died a few years before that, and then her father died unexpectedly . . . when was that, Sadako-chan?" the Director asked.

"About a year ago," the pretty nurse replied. "Since then she has been running the family group of companies with the help of that good looking boy from Hanadera that used to be her fiancé until she broke it off shortly after her father's death," she explained. "I heard that her mother left the family estate and moved up to their summer home permanently. Now it's just Sachiko-sama and a couple of servants at the estate."

"That's right. Thank you Inoue-sensei," the Director told the nurse before turning back to Yumi.

Yumi couldn't believe all that she was hearing. Not only did the girl in her dreams, and in her portraits, exist in real life, but she had a life of her own.

"You never did answer my question, Yumi-chan," the Director smiled at her. "Why, in your portrait of her, was Sachiko-sama crying? Is she crying in all of your portraits of her?"

"Oh, well, no," Yumi responded, sitting up in the bed so that she could be more on a level with her visitors, "this isn't the only one in which she is actually crying. She is smiling in some of them, but despite those smiles she is not really happy in any of them. It's like . . . it's like she is only wearing a mask of happiness," she said softly. "Her smile never reaches her eyes, if you know what I mean."

"Oh, I do, child. I do," Kaori replied sadly. "It reminds me so much of her when she was at school here. She was always polite, cordial, and she smiled frequently, but she never truly seemed happy. She never took a petite soeur either while she was here which surprised everyone."

"Petite soeur?" Yumi asked, wondering how someone could _take_ a little sister.

"Well, Lillian is a little unique among high schools," the nurse explained with a smile. "Instead of heavy handed rules and punishments like you find at most high schools in the country, Lillian uses a system of big sisters, or grande soeurs, to help teach their petite soeurs and other kohai things such things as proper etiquette, manners, speech, and style; basically how to speak and behave properly in public. It is also the responsibility of the grande soeur to properly discipline her petite soeur when she gets out of hand or acts improperly."

"A large percentage of the student body forms these 'soeur' relationships even though it is not mandatory," Kaori-sensei said, "especially the members of our student counsel, the Yamayurikai. It was almost unprecedented for Sachiko-chan to not choose a petite soeur to follow in her footsteps and become the future Rosa Chinensis. I believe she ended up supporting a young cousin of hers as her replacement on the counsel. You actually might have heard of her, Yumi-chan. Touko Matsudaira? She's a big television and movie star now."

Yumi nodded. Despite not watching a lot of TV, even she had heard of Touko-sama.

"She was her cousin, but didn't choose her as her petite soeur?" Yumi asked. "That seems a bit strange. Does anyone know why?"

"Yoshino-chan, one of the younger girls that became Rosa Foetida, told me that Sachiko had just never met a girl that she could love enough to become a true sister to her," Inoue-sensei said with a sigh.

"It's no wonder she seemed so sad most of the time," Kaori-sensei added with a sigh of her own.

"Are these soeur relationships so important?" Yumi asked.

"They can be," the older of the two women answered. "Most such relationships are based on a sisterly love between two girls. They can sometimes become a bit more . . . incestuous if you take my meaning," the Director chuckled, "but for the most part the girls end up closer than real siblings ever would be."

Inoue-sensei nodded her head before adding, "I have heard of such relationships lasting long into old age; almost like 'until death do us part'. Bottom line, Sachiko never found a girl that she could really love, in any sense of the word. As an only child brought up in a very strict and conservative family, I'm sure that must have hurt her."

Could that be the only reason, Yumi wondered. The portraits she had painted seemed to cover at least a year's period, if not two, based on the girl's physical growth in her various portraits. Could not having one of these 'petite soeurs' mean that much to her? Or was it more? And then there was . . . Yumi shook her head to get that vision from behind her eyes.

"Now Yumi-chan," Kaori said with a smile as she sat back in her chair, "about that job . . ."

"Um, could I think about it, Kaori-sensei," Yumi stammered, still trying to wrap her brain around the fact that the girl in her paintings actually existed.

"Of course, child. I need to check up on you a bit anyway; have to follow proper procedure or so they tell me," she said with a soft giggle, "but I'll have Personnel put together an offer letter for you to review. If you like what you see, well, you can just come and talk to me anytime. No need for an appointment. Just let the receptionist or Eri-chan know you want to speak with me and I'll fit you in."

"Thank you, Kaori-sensei," Yumi replied with a small smile.

-oo-

"Sachan, would you please stop pacing like that?" Suguru Kashiwagi said in exasperation as he tried to restrain his cousin as she strode past him once again in her seemingly never ending circuit of movement from one end of her large office to the other and back again.

"Leave me alone Suguru," the pacing woman snapped, raising her arm so that Suguru missed in his attempt to grab her, "and stop calling me that. It is unseemly for the president of an international corporation to call his superior by a nickname," Sachiko Ogasawara, CEO and Chairman of the Board of Directors of the Ogasawara Group, a trillion plus yen international conglomerate, said as she passed her tall, darkly handsome cousin and turned once again to head back in the other direction.

"I will when you stop acting like a child and start acting like a boss. What's gotten into you these last two days? I've never seen you like this."

"I don't know, Suguru," she exclaimed, throwing her hands up before she finally plopped down in one of the chairs in the office's sitting area. "I feel as if I've been on pins and needles since early yesterday afternoon. I just can't relax. I feel like something important is going to happen and I haven't a clue what it is. It's frustrating me to no end," she said quietly, cradling her face in her hands.

"Look, Sachiko, why don't we get out of here for today. I have already cancelled or postponed all of your important meetings because of the way you have been acting. I doubt that even _you_ could handle a major meeting with the state you are in. Come on, I'll treat you to a latte," Suguru said with a smile as he held out his hand to her.

Sachiko looked at his hand and wondered how he could so happily still care for her as much as he did. Up until just after her father died he had been her fiancé. It had shocked her when her father had named her the sole heir to the Ogasawara fortune, including all of its corporate holdings, with no caveat that she must marry Suguru in order to inherit. In fact her father's will, redrawn after the death of her grandfather, had specifically provided for her right to annul the betrothal if that was her desire. He had not even stipulated that Suguru take a position in the organization. It was the very last way that he could show her how much he truly cared for and loved her; to give her own life back into her own keeping once again.

And because he had done this for her, the very first thing she had done was to publically annul her betrothal with Suguru Kashiwagi. The second thing she had done, almost within the same breath and because it was the smart thing to do, was to name Suguru to the position of President of the Ogasawara Group; the position her father had held under her grandfather and that he had never filled after her grandfather's death.

"Why, Suguru?" she suddenly asked of him. He seemed to understand that her question had nothing whatsoever to do with coffee.

"Because," he began with a self-deprecating laugh, "despite being self-centered, egotistical, narcissistic, and vainglorious – ah, I guess all that is a bit redundant, isn't it – I am also your cousin, the closest you have to family other than your dear mother. But, more importantly, Sachiko," he said in a quiet voice, standing and then moving to kneel before her chair, "it is because I really do care for you."

"Suguru, you're tall, dark, handsome, young, both girls and guys fawn over you everywhere you go, and you're rich enough to live the life of a playboy for the rest of your days. So why are you willing to do all of this?" she asked.

"Well, being a playboy might be fun for a little while," he grinned as he stood up, "but I think that it would get very boring very quickly. Besides, I may have been raised, educated, and groomed since childhood by both of our families for this position," he said, "but that doesn't mean that I never wanted it. And, despite the fact that I am much more into boys than girls, I want to make sure that I am there for you if you ever need me," he said sincerely.

"You _have_ been there for me, Suguru," Sachiko acknowledged, "even with things like today; making sure that I do not make a fool of myself in front of everyone. I really do appreciate all you are doing. And you have been doing remarkably well with the company. Not only are profits up and the stock prices higher, but employee morale is at an all-time high as well. You haven't been sleeping with the entire staff have you," she giggled.

"Ah, well, there is one young man in the accounting department that I wouldn't mind getting to know better," he chuckled, "but no, I have been very good to keep my corporate life and my private life separate . . . so far," he smirked.

"You really are a scamp, aren't you," she giggled, "but maybe that's why I like you despite everything else. You may be self-centered and not always tell me everything you know, but you have never lied to me. So I know that when you say you care for me it is nothing but the unvarnished truth. Besides, I would be able to see through any lie that you tried to tell me.

"But . . . all that aside," she smiled, "I believe that someone just invited me for a latte and, while I might not go for a coffee right now, some other, stronger drink might be in order," she said with a sigh. "Maybe it will calm my nerves. Why don't you have my driver bring the car around to the front and we can go back to the estate for a bit."

"Your wish, as always Ojou-sama, is my command," he said with a flourish and a bow, enough to get her giggling again; which was his sole intent after all.

-oo-

"If you would please wait one moment, madam, sir," the security guard asked politely as Sachiko and Suguru approached the entrance doors to the Ogasawara Tower to head out to their car, "I have some additional security guards coming down to take care of a small issue that we have been watching for the past hour or so."

"An issue?" Sachiko asked, confused, "what is the nature of this 'issue'?"

"There has been a woman standing outside for the past hour, madam," the guard replied. "She hasn't made any attempt to enter the building, she has just been standing by the curb, first looking at the doors and then looking at something in her purse. We don't think it is really a problem, but we want to make sure that she is not carrying some sort of weapon."

"Where is this woman?" Sachiko said in a quavering voice, the pins and needles she had been feeling the past twenty-four hours suddenly kicking up a storm. "Please point her out to me."

"Sachiko?" Suguru asked concerned, taking her by the elbow to make sure that she did not collapse in public.

"I'm fine, Suguru. Please, just show me this woman," she reiterated to the security guard.

"This way madam," he said as he pointed in the direction of the security desk. They walked behind the counter and the guard pointed to a particular security monitor. The color screen showed a young woman somewhat younger than Sachiko's twenty-four years of age, standing by the curb about ten meters from where her town car idled, waiting for her and Suguru. The woman had mid-length, medium brown hair that hung down to the top of her shoulder blades and large brown eyes. She was probably around half a head shorter than Sachiko with a slender build and, from what Sachiko could see, the "womanly curves" of a much younger girl. She was no classic beauty, but most people would consider her cute. All Sachiko knew was that her heart had started pounding and a cold sweat had broken out on her brow as soon as she saw the woman.

"I-I want to meet her," Sachiko stammered.

"Sachiko, is that wise?" Suguru asked her softly.

"I . . . I just feel . . . I just think that I need to meet her, Suguru," Sachiko whispered without taking her eyes from the monitor.

Suguru sighed. He could never say 'no' to her.

"Alright, but only with security guards. Understood?"

"I understand. That's fine," she replied, finally looking up into his eyes, "But I need to see her _now_."

Suguru sighed once more and then motioned to the guard.

"I want two guards to be between Ogasawara-sama and that woman at all times. Is that clear?" he said coldly.

"Yes, sir," the guard nodded and motioned for one of the newly arrived guards that had answered his summons to accompany him.

The two guards moved out as Suguru and Sachiko followed behind. As soon as they exited the door the woman's head snapped up and she took a step forward before she saw the security guards. She immediately stopped and held her arms slightly out from her body. She wanted no misunderstandings.

"O-Ogasawara S-Sachiko-sama?" she called out. Sachiko thought her voice fit her very well, soft and sweet with an innocent stammer that showed her nervousness. That voice seemed to cut straight through her, like a fishing line hooked deep in her heart, drawing her forward, and she took an involuntary step towards the woman before Suguru caught her by the elbow and held her still.

"Y-yes, I am Ogasawara Sachiko," she called out when she had recovered, "who might you be and what do you want with me?"

"Oh, I . . . I'm nobody . . . really . . . I just . . . I wanted to give you something if it please you," she finally said. "Sir," she asked, indicating one of the guards, "I have an envelope in my purse. Could you please come here and take it to Ogasawara-sama? I promise that it is completely safe."

The younger guard looked first to his leader and then to Suguru, both of which nodded to him. He stepped forward and approached the slender, young woman. She obviously knew that the situation was precarious and had determined what she thought would be a safe way of delivering her message to the Ojou-sama. As he stood next to the woman, he apologized before further opening the purse in her left hand and, at her nod, withdrew an envelope that was about the proper size for a greeting card. It was not sealed so he took a quick look to determine that its contents were safe enough to give to his superiors. Seeing only a photograph, and that it was not of anything that would indicate an intent to blackmail, he looked back at the woman who gave him an encouraging smile. She was really cute!

He walked back and handed the envelope to his superior who took a quick look himself before handing it back to his President, never taking his eyes off the young woman in front of him.

Sachiko watched the entire scene unfold before her like an act in some spy movie. All of this was occurring on the busy sidewalk outside the entrance to her corporate headquarters building. It said something that none of the passing walkers gave any of them a second look. Suguru, after glancing at its contents himself, handed her the envelope. When she opened it she saw that all it contained was a photograph of a young girl in the uniform of Lillian Girls' Academy. Confused, she pulled the photo from its resting place and took a better look. She gasped as she realized that the portrait shown in the photo was of herself, standing in a beam of light and surrounded by darkness. She knew that she had never posed for any such portrait of herself.

"Where . . . how . . . I never . . . ?" she stammered, unable to take her eyes from the beautiful picture.

"I will send you the original . . . plus some others . . . in a few days," she heard over the din of the street. By the time she looked up to speak to the woman again she saw that she was already gone, swallowed up in the sea of humanity walking along the sidewalk.

"Wait!" she called out, looking both ways but unable to see the woman's head bobbing anywhere in either direction. "Did anyone see where she went?" she asked quickly, but received only shakes of their heads.

"I was watching her the whole time, madam," the senior guard said as he too kept searching the crowd. "One second she was there, then someone walked between us and suddenly she was just gone. I've never seen anyone that could do that before," he said, taking off his cap and scratching his head. "Do you want us to try to go after her, madam?"

"No. No, let her go. She said that she would be sending us the original of this portrait in a few days. I'm sure that we can find out more then," Sachiko said with a sigh. Throughout the encounter her heart had continued to beat furiously in her chest and then, just as suddenly, the pins and needles feeling had simply left her. She couldn't pinpoint exactly when it had stopped, whether it was before or after the girl had managed to escape, but it was like sunlight had entered her heart, along with a warmth that she had never felt before. Somehow, some way, she knew that she would meet this woman again and that she would figure very heavily in her life.

Along with everything else, one other thing about the woman had confused her; the woman's hair had been down, so why did Sachiko think that it should have been up in pigtails?

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><p>Thank you again for reading. Please feel free to offer your comments or reviews. As you can tell, I love hearing from you.<p>

Thanks and take care,

CX


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: Thank you so very much to everyone that commented and PM'ed me. I tried to reply to everyone's comments, but if I missed you I apologize.

Disclaimer: I do not own MSGM or any of its characters. All such honors belong to Oyuki Konno.

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><p>"Sachiko!" Sei Satou exclaimed with a big grin as her second favorite former Rosa Chinensis stepped through the door of her office at her art gallery in the Shinjuku Ni-choume district of Tokyo. "This is a very pleasant surprise. What brings you to my little corner of the world," she asked as the tall blonde gave Sachiko a hug and a kiss on the cheek.<p>

"It's good to see you too, Sei," Sachiko smiled, returning the hug warmly. "I should have come by sooner, but with all the work . . . well, you know."

"Ah, yes, well, can't be helped now can it," Sei grinned, "at least you came by today. Can I offer you some tea?"

At Sachiko's nod she called out to her assistant to have her bring a pot of oolong before she ushered her visitor to a comfortable chair and then sat once again behind her cluttered desk.

"As happy as I am to see you, Sachiko, can I assume that this is not a pleasure visit?" she asked, steepling her fingers on the desk before her but giving her guest a warm smile.

"Actually, a little of both, Sei," Sachiko apologized. "I did want to see you, but it was a bit of personal business that finally brought me here," she explained as she removed the envelope containing the photo from her briefcase. "I was wondering if you could take a look at this and give me your thoughts," she asked as she handed the photograph to her good friend.

"Hmm, well, let's see what we have here," Sei said as she removed the photo from the envelope. She studied the picture briefly before looking up at the raven haired beauty sitting across from her. "Can I assume that you did not sit for this portrait?" she asked.

"You assume correctly, Sei-sama," Sachiko answered. "I certainly would have remembered something like that. I don't believe that I ever sat for a portrait in my old school uniform." Nodding her head in understanding, Sei took a longer look at the photo, holding it at various angles before she whistled.

"Not bad. Really, not bad at all. Whoever painted this has some real talent. If all of the artist's works are this good, I wouldn't mind having a showing here at the gallery for them. I do wonder why you were painted crying though."

"Crying?" Sachiko asked, sitting forward in surprise. That was not something she had noticed even though she had been studying the portrait during the entire trip here after apologizing to Suguru and asking for a rain check on the drinks.

"Mmm, yeah, if you look closely you can just make out the glistening of tear tracks on your cheeks. Here, let me show you," she said as she turned around and put the photo into a scanner on the credenza behind her. A push of a button, a few clicks of her mouse and she removed the photo from the scanner and handed it back to Sachiko. "I assume you want to keep this," she smiled, "let's move over to my conference room. I have a projector and screen over there and we can take a better look."

They almost bumped into her assistant on their way out. Sei confiscated the teapot and cups and led Sachiko briefly down a hallway and opened another door to a rather large conference and, from the looks of it, storage room.

"This is where we normally review any potential new artwork we are considering displaying in the gallery, so it needs to be a little larger than most conference rooms," she explained as Sachiko was looking around at all the canvases leaning against the taupe colored walls. A small conference table stood in the middle of the large room surrounded by six chairs. A computer, monitor, and projector were set up at one end. Sei logged onto the computer and brought up the file of the scanned portrait she had just saved to the server. She then switched the display to the projector and used a remote to dim the room lights.

"Now, if I was an art dealer, and how about that, I _am_," she chuckled, "this is how I would review any potential piece of artwork that came in via email or, like yours, as a photograph." She stood and walked closer to the screen, never stepping in front of the projector, and studied the portrait more closely.

"Ah, as I thought, the darkness around you is not just darkness, nor is it really impressionistic. It's actually quite detailed, simply not lit up the way you are. By the way, can you now see the tear tracks?" she asked Sachiko who had walked up to stand on the other side of the screen. At the woman's nod Sei picked up a laser pointer from its holder on the wall and used it to indicate the only piece of flora caught in the shaft of light. "Can you recognize what this is Sachiko?" she asked.

"Th-that's a Rosa Chinensis," she stammered, unable to imagine the effort it would have taken the artist to render the rose bush to such a degree that even the plant's particular species could be identified.

"Very good, Sachiko," Sei giggled, "but I figured that you would know the answer to that one. Actually, my real question is: who is the artist? Whoever it is, I would love to meet him or her."

"Her . . . I think," Sachiko said thoughtfully as she turned away from the screen and took a seat at the table. She explained the unusual encounter outside her headquarters building and told the former Rosa Gigantea what the woman had said about delivering the original portrait within a few days.

"Well, if we assume that this mystery woman is the actual artist," Sei said, thinking hard, "and we can't take that as a given, then here is what I want you to do, Sachan. Whenever or wherever this shipment arrives, I want you to leave it crated, or however it is packaged, exactly the way it is without opening it and you are to call me immediately. I don't care what time of day or night it arrives. It's possible that unpacking the portrait could damage it if it's not handled properly and I absolutely do _not_ want that painting damaged. And if you don't mind, I'm going to call Youko in on this one. Based on your story, she might be interested. I know Yoshino-chan will be," the former Rosa Gigantea grinned.

"Yoshino?" Sachiko asked incredulously. "I don't mind bringing onee-sama into the picture, but why Yoshino?"

"You've been out of touch too long, Sachan," Sei laughed. "Yoshino is now working for Youko. Yoshino got her Private Investigator's license last year and has been working for Youko's law firm as a case investigator ever since."

"Yoshino-chan is a PI?" Sachiko said in disbelief. "How did Rei ever allow that?"

Sei chuckled, "It seems that Yoshino took a page from Rei's book and didn't bother to tell her until she had already received the license, just like Rei didn't tell Yoshino about going to Todai until it was too late to get into Lillian U. As far as I'm concerned, she deserved to get a little of her own medicine back," Sei laughed.

Sachiko giggled as well. It was just like Yoshino to do something like that.

"It really is a beautiful portrait, Sachiko," Sei commented as she returned to studying the enlarged photo, "but there is something about it that just strikes me as . . . not wrong really, just odd."

"I'm not sure what you mean," Sachiko replied, gazing at the picture again. She had to agree with Sei that it was beautiful. None of the other paintings her parents had commissioned had been anywhere near as good. They had all been so staged; projecting her likeness but not who she really was. This artist on the other hand seemed to see right through her; capturing her true essence and baring it for all the world to see. It sent a chill down her spine that someone she had never met could know her so intimately.

"I'm not sure either," Sei murmured, "it's just a feeling I get . . . almost like it's unfinished, but given all the detail that just seems impossible."

Sachiko couldn't see what it was that Sei was talking about, but she had to admit that the painting gave her an odd feeling. It took her a moment before she realized that what she was feeling was a gentle longing, a need, as if a piece of her soul was missing. And she suddenly felt very afraid. If just a scan of a photograph could make her feel this way, how would she react when she stood before the original portrait?

She shivered.

-oo-

"Yeah, Mom, she's real," Yumi told her mother by phone later that evening.

"Oh, my God, Yumi! I'm sorry, but I never really thought . . ."

"I know, Mom, and it's alright. I never thought she would be real either," Yumi laughed softly. "I actually saw her. I even spoke to her on the street today. I couldn't believe it either. If anything she's even more beautiful than she is in the paintings."

"So, what are you going to do now, dear?" Miki asked with concern for her daughter.

"I . . . I'm not sure. I guess we'll see if the dreams go away . . . all I can do is hope," Yumi laughed tearfully into the phone.

"Yumi, are you alright? Is there anything your father or I can do?" Miki asked.

"I'm sorry, no, I'll be alright once I can get my head wrapped around this," she replied, sniffing, "but . . . um, yeah, could you please ask Dad to crate up the portrait sitting on my easel and ship it to me? I promised her that I would send her the original. Also, if he can take the others off of their frames and just roll them up in a shipping tube, that would be great, but I need that last portrait here as soon as possible."

"Of course, Yumi. It might take a day or so, but you should have it by the day after tomorrow or the next day at the latest," Miki replied.

"Thanks, Mom. I really appreciate it," Yumi sighed.

She spoke with her mother for a few more minutes before they finally said goodbye to each other with a mutual promise to talk again later in the week.

She knew she could count on her father to properly package the paintings. He would probably use the new crate he had designed on a lark after seeing how some of the art shipment companies were still using methods and materials that were well over a hundred years old. Yumi had been shocked at how well the new crate protected the paintings, even when dropped from heights of four meters. And not having to use a crow bar to open them was a godsend to the safety of the painting inside.

Now all she could do was wait. She took another sip of the wine she had purchased earlier that afternoon. After her encounter with the Ogasawara heiress she had definitely needed something to help settle her nerves. She leaned over and picked up the envelope that someone from the school had dropped off while she was out. The offer letter to become an art instructor at Lillian was more than generous: an annual salary of ¥4,600,000 plus an offer to pick up the rent on her current lodgings for as long as it took her to find another place to live, assuming that she didn't simply decide to stay where she was. If she decided to stay in the little cottage they had offered to pay for half of the monthly rent. It was an astounding offer, more than three times what she would have been making if she went full-time at her current job. Of course, living in Tokyo would be more expensive than the tiny town of Ashoro, but could she even really consider such a move right now? So much was still up in the air. If her dreams and visions didn't go away she might not be in any condition to paint, let alone teach!

Yumi sighed and swallowed the rest of the white zinfandel in two gulps. It was still a little early for bed, but a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her. She rinsed the wine glass and left it on the counter to dry before heading to her bedroom. It had been a long day. She had been up before seven, then the meeting with the Academy Director (and don't forget fainting!). Then she had made the trip into Tokyo to the headquarters of the Ogasawara Group and spoken to Sachiko-sama. Yes, she could say that the day had been just a tiny bit stressful. It was no wonder that she was tired. She had planned on taking a shower, but after laying down briefly on her bed she suddenly found her eyes closing of their own accord as she drifted off.

She whimpered in her sleep when the dream started. _Why, God? Why was this still happening?_ The tears that leaked from her slumbering eyes were a silent testimony to the fact that her visions were not yet over. This one, however, was slightly different from all the others. She saw Sachiko-sama, once again in the uniform of a Lillian student and standing in front of the stone statue of Maria-sama, but for the first time the second person in the scene frozen before her mind's eye was perfectly depicted. No longer was she shown as a ghost; a phantom trying desperately but unsuccessfully to comfort the raven haired Sachiko.

Yumi's eyes shot open, now fully awake at the shock that ran through her system.

"What the hell!" she gasped. She glanced at the clock on the nightstand which read just before six in the morning. Breakfast with Kei-san was scheduled for eight. It was still too early for the art supply stores to be open and she didn't know where they might be located anyway. She could probably ask Kei-san if there were any close by. Even still, she sat up in bed knowing that she just _had_ to grab the phone book and start her search.

She would need an easel, canvas, paints, pigments, brushes . . .

* * *

><p>AN: Thank you all again for your support of this story. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it.

Take care,

CX


	4. Chapter 4

A/N: With sincere gratitude to everyone for their support of this fic, and in celebration of one reader's new job and another's promotion, here is Chapter 4.

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><p>"Madam, a package has been delivered for you at the front gate," Sachiko's butler announced with a slight bow later that week as she was enjoying a cup of tea out on the estate's patio.<p>

"Don't touch it!" she yelled as she stood up so quickly that her chair overturned with a clatter of metal on stone.

"I'm very sorry, Madam," he said contritely and with a deeper bow, "but I already brought it to your office since it was left leaning against the gates. If it helps at all I have not opened it."

"I'm sorry," Sachiko sighed as she tried to regain control of her recently abused equilibrium. "I didn't mean to yell, Aoki-kun. It is my fault for forgetting to tell you. I thought she would have delivered the portrait to the headquarters building, not to the estate," she murmured, "I wonder how she knew where to find me. The estate's address isn't published anywhere."

She entered her office to find a wooden crate 76cm wide by 107cm tall and 15cm deep. She could not see anything unique in its construction, but she would leave that to Sei-sama and Yoshino-chan. She went to her desk and dialed Sei's cell number.

"Sei, its Sachiko. Yes, it just arrived. No, we have not opened it. You'll call Yoshino-chan? That is fine. Alright, I will see you in about an hour. Thank you," she said as she hung up.

Sachiko leaned back in her desk chair and stared at the seemingly inoffensive crate that she felt, in some way, could change her life. She desperately wanted to open it to get at the portrait it contained, and it took all of her training as both a lady and a business woman to withhold herself from acting on those desires. That did not stop her from regarding the crate for the entire hour that it took for her guests to arrive as she hummed a little tune to herself. The more she hummed, the more relaxed she became. It took her a while, but she eventually remembered the name of the song: _Maria's Heart_. It had been so long since she had heard that song; since high school at Lillian surely. She was interrupted in her reverie by the opening of her office door.

"Sachan, we're here," Sei announced unnecessarily with her usual boisterous attitude. The tall blonde entered the room followed by a shorter girl with long brown braids dressed in jeans and a white button down shirt, and a smartly dressed woman with short, black hair almost as dark as Sachiko's.

"Onee-sama? What are you doing here," Sachiko asked with a big smile as she quickly rose from her seat to welcome her black haired grande soeur with a warm hug that was returned with equal fervor.

"I decided to come along after Sei called Yoshino-chan," Youko said with a smile, "after all, she is my employee and you are my petite soeur. If this woman, this artist that Sei told me about, is going to be causing problems for my Sachiko, then of course I have to be here to protect you."

"In other words, she saw an opportunity to once again meddle in your life, Sachiko-sama," Yoshino grinned.

A slight cough from the open doorway caught their attention.

"I apologize, madam," Aoki-kun said. "Satou-sama insisted that they would go ahead. May I bring some refreshments?"

"It's alright, Aoki-kun. It would take a better man than you to hold back any of these young women," she grinned. It was a running joke between her and her butler regarding the former members of the Yamayurikai. "Black tea for everyone?" Sachiko asked the room with a smile. At the nods Aoki-kun bowed and headed towards the kitchen and the always waiting teapot.

"Now, let's take a look, shall we," Sei said, suddenly all business as she turned towards the large wooden crate placed against one wall. She walked over and, without touching the object, began inspecting its construction. She was joined by Yoshino who also knelt down and began her own inspection. The brown haired girl pulled out a small toolkit along with a pair of latex gloves that she put on before touching the wood, a small magnifying glass in her left hand.

"Interesting construction," Sei murmured. "I don't think I've seen a packing crate for paintings built in quite this manner. Most need to be gently opened with a pry bar or some other tool, but this one seems to have an opening mechanism built into the sides."

"The wood isn't local either," Yoshino mentioned. "I can have a piece analyzed later, but I would think that most crates are not made from a wood that would normally be this expensive."

"True," Sei replied as the two former Rosa Chinensis sisters looked on with anticipation, "although the contents are usually valuable, the packing container is typically made of much less expensive materials and are typically thrown away after a single use. I would say that this was both custom designed and manufactured."

"It's hard and flat enough," Yoshino said as she opened a dusting kit, "that I might be able to lift a few prints if the person wasn't wearing gloves. But I wouldn't hold my breath given all the hands that this probably went through getting here."

"Oh, that reminds me," Sachiko exclaimed as she rushed around her desk and sat down in front of her computer, "the security cameras are all linked into the computer network. I should be able to access the footage from the front gate camera and see if we can get a look at who delivered it," she explained as her long fingers started tapping keys. It was only moments before she started scrolling through the digitized images taken by the camera this morning. She found the segment of video she was looking for and rewound it to the point where a small, black taxi cab pulled up in front of her gates.

She clicked on the "play" icon and with Youko looking over her shoulder watched as the cab pulled up in the driveway and a figure in a long dark coat with a hood got out of the front passenger's seat. The woman, Sachiko assumed, walked around the rear of the cab, opened the rear door and, with the help of the cab driver, levered the large crate from the back seat and carried it over to lean it against the blackened, carbon steel gates. While the cab driver made no attempt to hide his face, the woman kept her head down so that her features within the darkened hood were never visible. The two got back into the cab after making their delivery and the car pulled away. She and Youko watched it through from start to finish three times before they gave up and waited for the "professional" Yoshino to have a look at it.

It all seemed so cloak and dagger to Sachiko, but she simply _knew_ that the woman she had met on the street a few days ago had been the one to make the delivery. Her heart started pounding again and the tingles were back as she had watched the crate being delivered. It _had_ to be her. She was the only person that made Sachiko feel this way; for whatever reason.

They spent a half hour going over the crate and the camera footage.

"It's definitely a woman," Yoshino declared after watching the video twice from start to finish. "She is trying to hide her face, but you can tell from the way the hood hangs on her head that she is wearing pigtails. See here and here," she pointed out as she froze the image, "these slight protrusions in the fabric on either side of her head? Definitely pigtails."

Sachiko gasped softly. She had somehow known that the woman usually wore her hair in pigtails. Don't try to ask her how she knew it; she just did. It was like knowing that fire was hot and water wet. It simply was. And it frightened her just a bit although she would never let her friends see that.

"Well, if we are done here, then I guess it's time for the great unveiling," Sei grinned as she and Yoshino walked back over to the crate. "You saw how it worked?" she asked the shorter girl. At her nod, each woman placed a hand on one side of the crate and pushed on a slight indentation. With the sound of a releasing catch and a spring, the front of the crate sprang open about ten centimeters before being stopped by a pin at the top of each corner. With those pins removed the hinged front of the crate was gently lowered to the floor.

Yoshino placed each of the pins that had been removed into a plastic bag as Sei-sama gently removed a layer of soft but sturdy packing foam so that the contents of the crate could finally be revealed. The whistles and gasps said it all.

"It's beautiful," Youko whispered.

"Stunning," Yoshino agreed.

Sei removed a couple of small pressure seals at each corner of the painting and then slowly removed it and carried it over to an easel that Aoki-kun had set up near the large bay window of the office while they had been waiting for Sei's arrival.

"Actually," Sei said in a soft, awestruck voice as she stepped back, "it's a masterpiece."

Seeing the original portrait in person, not just a small photograph of it, was like trying to compare an original Rembrandt to a copy shown in a textbook. There was simply no comparison.

"You were right, Sei," Youko said in a whisper, "she's crying. But she's so beautiful in her sadness. Sachiko, you knew it better than any of us; is that the old greenhouse at Lillian?"

"Yes, onee-sama, it is. And that is the Rosa Chinensis bush that I took care of for three years. I would know it anywhere. Did she somehow get a photo of it? I mean, it's not a representation of the bush, it is the _same plant_. But why did she paint me crying?"

"I've seen that face before, Sachiko," Youko said gently as she put a hand on her petite soeurs shoulder. "You may not remember it, and you may not know it, but I watched out for you for so many years and even though you tried to hide it, I have seen that same pain and sadness in your heart and in your eyes so many times. Whoever the artist is, she has seen it as well. I would say that this is a portrait of you right after your grandmother died in your third year at Lillian.

"And Sachiko, look at your hands," Youko breathed softly.

"Th-that's my rosary, onee-sama," Sachiko whispered while reaching for her throat.

"Yes, the one I gave you when you became my petite soeur," Youko said. "I would know it anywhere because it is the rosary that my onee-sama gave to me and that I passed down to you."

Sachiko reached into her blouse and pulled out the rosary that she still wore every day. She pulled it over her head and held it up in front of the painting. It was obvious to everyone in the room that they were one and the same. Sachiko put her rosary back on and tucked it back into her blouse where it rested just above her heart.

"But something is missing," she said.

"…?"

"…?"

"…?"

Three sets of eyes turned to look at the head of the Ogasawara Zaibatsu as if she were crazy.

"What do you mean," Yoshino asked, leaning forward to get a better look at the portrait. The two other girls looked just as confused.

"I mean exactly what I said," Sachiko said adamantly, frustrated at being unable to properly express what she was feeling when she looked at her portrait, but still having to try to say it. "There is something . . . or someone . . . missing from the picture."

"Oh my god," Sei tried to stifle her gasp. "Look at her uniform, around her waist."

The other three looked closely, but it was Yoshino's sharp eyes that figured it out. "She's being held. Look at how her uniform lays as it goes from her bust line down to her waist and then down to the pleated skirt. It should be hanging straight, but see how there is a slight compression of the fabric around her waist? She is being gently held by someone not shown in the portrait."

"How the hell did you see that, Sachiko," Sei asked, turning to look at the artist's subject. "I'm a professional and I didn't notice it until you mentioned it."

"I-I don't know, Sei-sama. I just felt it. It was like I expected to see something that wasn't there. It was just a feeling . . . I don't know how else to explain it," she said in exasperation.

"It's unsigned," Youko pointed out with a sigh.

"So is this," Yoshino said as she held up a plastic bag that contained a hand written note that she had plucked out of the interior of the crate after Sei had removed the portrait. _"The rest will follow. I'm sorry!"_ it said.

"The rest?" Sei asked, turning to look at Sachiko with a confused look.

"Um, she did say that she would send this one, along with 'some others', when I spoke to her on the street."

"And you just thought to mention this now!" the blonde woman exclaimed, waving her hands in the air. "With just four or five more like this I could hold a showing at my gallery!"

"I'm sorry, Sei-sama," Sachiko said, bowing her head slightly, "I had forgotten until Yoshino read the note."

"'I'm sorry'," Youko said thoughtfully, "I wonder what she meant by that."

-oo-

Sei got her wish two days later when a shipping tube arrived in the mail at the Ogasawara estate. The scene from the previous day was replayed six-fold when the tube was opened and six more portraits, all of Sachiko in six different surroundings, were set up to be displayed around her home office.

Only Sachiko's name had been on the outside of the tube and, of course, there was no return address.

"Probably used a private courier service and had the delivery timed to arrive at the same time as the post. That's why you don't see anyone else on the security video," was Yoshino's deduction. No one else had any better ideas.

"This one was done at the estate," Sachiko said as she pointed to one of the new paintings, "I recognize the lake out beyond the trees."

"This one is of you in front of the statue of Maria-sama at Lillian," Yoshino said.

"This is of you as Cinderella," Sei said after recognizing the dress Sachiko is wearing in the portrait.

"And this one was done at your summer home, Sachiko," Youko exclaimed with a hand over her mouth, "I remember from the times you invited us up there."

"Wait a second," Yoshino said softly, moving first to one side and then to the other of one of the new portraits, "this one was done in the meeting room of the Rose Mansion. I just can't remember when, damnit!"

The last painting was another from the greenhouse, but this time Sachiko was portrayed sitting alone on the short retaining wall that housed some of the plants. Again, she was wearing the dress from _Cinderella_. She was crying once more, her rosary in her left hand while . . .

"I'm holding someone's hand," she whispered.

"What, Sachan?" Sei asked, coming over to gaze at the painting.

"I'm holding someone's hand," she said more definitively before she moved over to the next one, the one in the meeting room of the Rose Mansion. "Someone is standing in front of me. I'm looking into their eyes," she said as she then moved to the one at the lake on the estate. "Someone is supposed to be sitting next to me," she exclaimed as she moved to the next painting, tears forming in her eyes as she became more and more frantic. "Someone is supposed to be sitting with me at the table," she said of the one showing her summer home, "there are two teacups," she said as she ran to the last one; the one in front of Maria-sama. This one she stopped at and simply stared at the canvas in front of her.

The painting showed that it was early evening, the light from the full moon shown down on her and the space in front of her as she held her rosary aloft, the necklace held wide open as if she were presenting it to the moonlight . . . or as if she were going to place it around someone's neck. She gradually collapsed to her knees, staring at the portrait, the tears in her eyes now matching those shown in the painting. "My petite soeur," she whispered, barely loud enough to be heard in her own ears, let alone anyone else's; but her onee-sama heard her and knelt down to wrap her in her arms.

"My petite soeur," she said a little louder, and then again, with a sob, "M-my p-petite soeur." Finally, with a wail of anguish that rocked the others, "My petite soeur! Where is she? She's supposed to be there! WHERE IS SHE?" she screamed as Youko rocked her and let her rail against her. "WHAT HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY PETITE SOEUR, YOU BITCH!" Sachiko screamed, pounding her knees in frustration and despair.

"There are more in the tube," Sei said quietly as she watched her friend cry in the arms of her grande soeur. "I only put up the ones that I had enough hangers for."

"There's Rei and Nana-chan," Yoshino said as she studied the one from the Rose Mansion, "and me. And there's Shimako and Noriko and even Touko-chan. They are a little indistinct in the darkness, but easily recognizable to anyone that knows them."

"Even Camera-chan," Sei said as she joined the brown haired sleuth in front of the painting, pointing to a short haired, bespectacled figure.

"Now I know what she meant when she said 'I'm sorry' in her note," Youko said quietly as she consoled her little sister. "She knew that this would happen; that Sachiko would realize what was missing in each of these portraits. That's why she was apologizing. Do we know any more about her yet?" she asked of her friends as Sachiko continued to weep in the circle of her arms.

"Not yet, but I want to know how she painted all of these," Yoshino replied angrily. "There was no one else in the room with us at the Christmas party Sachiko's third year at Lillian. I would swear my life on it, and that's where this one was painted. I remember the scene when Sei-sama pointed out Tsutako-san. You can just barely make out the Christmas decorations on the walls. She's either a stalker or psychic, and I would lean towards a stalker."

"No!" Sachiko said vehemently as she finally tried to gather herself together again. "She is _not_ a stalker. That much I know. I don't know who she is, or where she came from, or how she painted all of these, but I know in my heart that she means no evil."

"Sachiko's right," Sei added into the sudden silence, "there is no malice in these paintings. There is love, there is sadness, there is want and need, there is loneliness and there is even despair, but there is no malice or evil intent. I've studied tens of thousands of paintings and artists, from the old masters to the insane. I would stake my reputation that the artist is in just as much pain as Sachiko is. You can see it in the tenderness of the brushstrokes and in the careful choice of colors; in the sunlight and in the oils. She loves Sachiko dearly and hates the pain that she sees in her eyes, but I would swear on a stack of bibles that she was in just as much pain, if not more, when she painted these."

"Onee-sama, Yoshino-san, you are now, as of this moment and for the foreseeable future, on the Ogasawara payroll. Whatever your price may be I don't care. You will find me that woman and you will bring her to me. Hire whomever you need to. Go wherever you need, hell, _bribe_ whoever you need to, but I want to meet this woman again." The head of the Ogasawara Group was back in charge and she would see that her will was done.

"Sei, make copies or take pictures of all of these paintings and send copies out to all of the galleries in Japan to see if anyone recognizes the artist," Yoshino said, taking over.

"Yes ma'am," Sei said with a grin and a salute.

"I'll continue trying to track down the information on the original crate design and materials," Yoshino continued. "It's too unique to not be recognized by someone. I'll get an engineer to draw up some schematics and get them sent out to the crating manufacturers."

"Since it may be a one-of-a-kind design," Sachiko inserted, "I'll have one of my engineers do it and put our proprietary logo on it. That way the design won't be stolen by anyone. Whoever came up with it is a genius and deserves the credit and the proceeds from any sales. Call Suguru. I'll give you his cell phone number and tell him it's my decision. He'll make sure you get everything you need."

"I'm also going to start putting together a private showing," Sei said enthusiastically as she walked around looking at all of the brand new artwork she had at her disposal; each and every one of them a true masterpiece. "It might take a few weeks, maybe a little more or less, but I'll need the time to get these framed and the invitations printed and distributed. I'll invite everyone I know in the art world to come. Oh, this is going to be fun!" she grinned as she rubbed her hands together delightedly.

Sachiko could care less how much "fun" it might be. If it helped to find her this woman, she would pay any price. She didn't know what her friends or her head might be trying to tell her, but her heart was telling her that she needed to find this woman . . . now!

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><p>AN: Again, thank you all so very much for your support of this story. I can't tell you how grateful I am.

Take care,

CX


	5. Chapter 5

A/N: Thank you all again for your wonderful support. I adore everyone's comments and PMs.

Disclaimer: I do not own MSGM or any of it's characters. All such honors belong to Oyuki Konno.

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><p>Yumi sat at her easel painting furiously. Kei-san had been kind enough to bring her a drink and a light dinner, waving off any offer of payment.<p>

"I'm worried about you, Yumi-san," the dark haired proprietress said. "You haven't eaten properly in four days and I doubt that you have slept a dozen hours during that same time period. Can't you please just take a break, even if it is only a few hours to get some real sleep?"

"I'm sorry, Kei-san," Yumi replied, deep bags under her eyes as she took a sip from the drink in her left hand while her brush deposited flowing colors to the canvas with her right. "I really wish that I could, but this is the way it's been for me for the last seven years. I have a vision or a dream and somehow, someway, I am forced to paint it. My mind won't let my body sleep until I pass out or collapse. My mother would bring me food and water or tea, otherwise I probably would have starved to death years ago," she explained as she continued her brush strokes even while she tried to eat the sandwich Kei-san had brought to her. In addition to having not slept more than a few hours, she had neither showered nor changed her clothes since she had woken up the morning after her dream. "Once this is done I will probably crash for anywhere from 24 to 48 hours and you'll have a devil of a time waking me. I went through one such bout a couple of days before I came here. I just made a couple of touchups to the last painting before I hopped on the plane."

"And this happens every time?" Kei asked, aghast.

"Yup, every time," was Yumi's sleepy reply as her eyelids started to droop and she dropped her brush into the can of turpentine, "um, I hope you will excuse me, Kei-san . . ." she said just before she started to topple from the stool she had set up in front of the easel.

Kei barely caught the falling girl and, with a quick movement, picked her up princess style and carried the now unconscious girl to her bedroom. There she gently laid her on top of the bed before spreading an extra blanket over the exhausted young woman.

Yumi was only two years younger than Kei, and had looked even younger when she had first arrived at her home. Now, however, she looked at least a decade or more older with her taught, dry skin and the dark bags under her red and swollen eyes. Kei had heard her crying every day and long into the night, even from across the yard. It was no wonder that Yumi doubted her ability to stay sane if she had to go through this every time!

Kei brushed a few stray hairs from Yumi's face before she closed the door and went back out into the living room where the unfinished canvas sat. Even though she had never attended Lillian's high school division she could easily recognize the statue of Maria-sama that all the students said a prayer to every day. Now knowing who the main character was in this drama, she could start to identify Sachiko-sama's long black hair and piercingly beautiful sapphire eyes even though the rest of the figure was still unfinished. It was the other figure that she couldn't yet identify. This girl was a bit shorter than Sachiko, maybe by half a head. She too wore the same Lillian uniform that Sachiko wore, but the features of the face were still too indistinct. All she could determine was that the girl would have brown hair and brown eyes.

Shaking her head she gathered the small remains of the meal she had brought with her and forced Yumi to eat. At least she had eaten most of it before she fainted. With a last glance at the painting she turned and exited the small cottage. She needed to call Kaori-sensei and let her know what was happening.

-oo-

"Any luck, Yoshino-san," Sachiko asked her hired PI two weeks later as the younger woman plopped down into a comfortable chair on the other side of her desk in her home office. Sei-sama had taken all of the paintings back to her gallery with her and, true to her word, had immediately set out to plan a showing in her gallery. She had had all of the canvases re-framed and was in the process of printing up invitations.

"Not yet, Sachiko-sama," the brown eyed girl replied with a sigh. "It seems the crate was a one-off construction. No one I showed the design to had ever seen it before, although I think that if you wanted you could have orders for a few thousand of the things with a wave of your hand. Every single person I showed it to, whether shipper or art dealer, wanted to know where they could get some. I hope you have filed for the patent already. I saw a lot of avarice in some of those eyes."

"Youko already has that well in hand," Sachiko explained. "The Ogasawara Group will hold the patent, but I intend to have the actual inventor, if we ever find the person, named on the patent later and I have already warned Suguru that I expect the company to pay handsomely for both the design and the manufacturing rights."

"Yeah, well," Yoshino replied with a wave of her hand, not really caring if it didn't further her investigation, "my friends on the force also turned up a negative on the few fingerprints I was able to lift from the crate. The ones not immediately identified as part of the postal service or the shipping companies were scanned into their computer, but it seems that whoever made it has never been in trouble with the law before. Not sure whether that's a good thing or a bad thing for us, but it means that one more possible link to the woman is another dead end. Too bad so many people handled the photograph. All the prints on the back of the photo were mashed together too much to decipher a single print."

"I get the feeling she'll turn up again somehow," Sachiko sighed as she leaned back in her leather desk chair. "The more I think about it, the less sure I am that she might not just be some kind of scam artist. I cannot figure out what her game might be, but . . ."

"Well, since I can't seem to find anything on this woman I can't really say one way or another," Yoshino said with a nod, "but I just can't get over the detail in the paintings of people and places and events that she simply couldn't have been at. I've never been one to believe in ghost stories or the paranormal," she said scratching her head, "but I just can't figure out how she did it."

"Neither can I, Yoshino-san," Sachiko said softly, "neither can I."

-oo-

Yumi stood in front of the white, stone statue of Maria-sama and bowed her head in prayer.

_Please, Maria-sama, why won't they leave me alone? I've delivered the paintings to Sachiko-sama, why won't the dreams go away! Please, let this be the last one, Maria-sama. If not . . . I just . . . I just don't know if I'll be able to stand it much longer._

She had finally gotten to a point with the new painting a week or so ago that she was being allowed a bit more sleep and even some time to go out on short trips like the one today to Lillian.

"Yumi-chan," she heard her name called as she tried to put her prayer into some semblance of acceptability. She turned to see Inoue-sensei smiling and waving at her as she walked across the manicured lawn toward the still exhausted artist. "Have you come to visit us again," the school nurse asked as she arrived at where Yumi stood.

"Um, yes. Kaori-sensei called and asked if I could come visit her. I think she wants to try to hire me again," Yumi grinned as she replied to the smiling woman.

"You could certainly do a lot worse than a job as a teacher at Lillian," Inoue-sensei smiled, taking in the slightly less haggard appearance of the bright and cheery girl she had first met.

She had been simply stunned the first time she had seen Yumi after she had been claimed by her demanding muse. It had been a little bit over a week ago and she hadn't been sure whether to send her immediately home or call for an ambulance. Instead she had settled for interring the girl in a bed in the infirmary while she hooked up a couple of IV bags to make sure that the girl did not become too dangerously dehydrated. At least she looked a little better today if still too thin.

"I can tell you that ever since I joined the school five years ago I have been happier than I ever have been in any of my other jobs," she finished with a slightly forced grin, ignoring Yumi's appearance. She got the feeling the young woman wouldn't appreciate any comments just then.

"I'll keep that in mind," Yumi said with a smile as the two began the walk to the administration building. Both Inoue-sensei as well as Kaori-sensei, even Eri-san the clerk, had done everything they could to make Yumi feel welcome and at home. Yumi had visited the ebullient Academy Director a few times over the three weeks she had been in town. She had even offered to pick up the tab of Yumi's cottage at the B&B, but Yumi didn't want to feel indebted to the nice woman that was doing her best to get her to accept a job as an art teacher. The salary and rental payments that she had been offered amounted to significantly more than what she was currently making at her old school and would have been more than enough to keep her well supplied in food, clothing and art supplies. Kei-sama had even offered to install two skylights to help her with her painting in order to ensure that Yumi would stay on as a permanent border. It was all very nice but seemed to have an air of a conspiracy about it. Even still, it made her very happy to be so wanted by these wonderful people.

Yumi and Inoue-sensei talked and laughed as they walked across the beautiful campus, the polite students greeting them with a happy "good day" and a nod as they passed by. The school nurse said her goodbye's at the entrance to the administration building as she headed off to the infirmary building. Yumi couldn't believe that Kaori-sensei and Eri-san had carried her the entire way from one building to the next the first day she had met with the Academy Director. She still blushed when she remembered how she had fainted in Kaori-sensei's office. And then having the school nurse force needles in her arms for fluids, ugh! She had no idea why they were treating her so nicely.

"Good day, Yumi-sensei," Eri-san said warmly as she walked into the academy's business office.

"Good day, Eri-san. You called to tell me that Kaori-sensei wanted to see me?" Yumi asked the nice clerk.

"Yes, Yumi-sensei. I'll let her know that you have arrived. Have you given any further thought to the job offer," she grinned.

"Not yet, Eri-san," Yumi chuckled, "but if you all keep treating me like royalty, I may find myself unable to say 'no' much longer."

"Then we will just have to redouble our efforts," the older woman grinned evilly. "English Breakfast tea this morning?" she asked.

"Yes, please," Yumi answered with her own smile.

Eri-san ushered Yumi to the door to Kaori-sensei's office and announced her arrival, promising to bring the tea directly.

"Yumi-chan," the grey haired Director welcomed her with a hug, "you are looking a little better today. I hope that Kei-chan is taking good care of you?"

"She is, Kaori-sensei, very well. I think I have gained over three kilos since I moved in just on Kei-san's wonderful breakfasts. I will have had to take up running in the evenings to try to stay in shape," Yumi laughed. It was a patent lie and she knew Kaori-sensei knew it as well. If anything she had dropped seven kilos in the last few weeks, although she had hopefully gained one or two back recently.

"Well I hope that you can still fit into one of your dresses, Yumi-chan," the Director giggled, "otherwise I will have to make the supreme sacrifice and take you shopping this afternoon."

"Excuse me, Kaori-sensei?"

"I'm taking you on a date this evening, Yumi-chan, a date," the older woman laughed.

"Eeehhh?"

-oo-

They had in fact ended up going shopping that afternoon where they had found Yumi a cute but stylish LBD with a modest neckline, a high waistline, and an angled hem that hung just below her knees. The little black dress clung to her modest curves comfortably without looking too "sexy," a look that Yumi had never in her life achieved. Nor, for that matter, could Yumi remember a time when she had ever desired to achieve such a look; never having had anyone in her life to look sexy for. A matching purse and shoes had also been procured for the artist. The Academy Director had offered to pay for everything, but again Yumi had demurred. Kaori-sensei had then taken her to her own hairdresser where Yumi's hair had been let down, washed, trimmed, moisturized and spritzed with mousse to keep it from going frizzy again as soon as they exited the quaint shop.

Kaori-sensei had been very circumspect with the details as to their "date" but when the town car arrived at seven to pick her up the older woman was dressed in a stylish gown that well matched Yumi's outfit. She handed her a jewelry box that contained a string of pearls for Yumi to wear with her dress for the evening. Despite Yumi's initial protests, she soon found herself wearing the long strand of expensive white beads.

The car dropped them off in front of a storefront with darkened glass and an art deco motif. It wasn't until they walked inside that Yumi realized that they were in an art gallery. The front of the gallery was decorated with oil paintings, sketches, watercolors, and sculptures of a modern design that even with Yumi's limited art education she could tell that they were wonders of their respective arts.

"This place belongs to one of our graduates. She's a much younger but very good friend of mine that got into the business shortly after she graduated from the university. She always invites me when she is showcasing a new artist."

"I can see that she has wonderful taste," Yumi offered as she peered at a freeform sculpture on a medium sized stand. From what she could tell, the basic theme throughout the front room was a celebration of the female form.

"Kaori-sensei," she heard a woman call out as she was glancing at a nude watercolor in the cubist style. Turning she saw a tall blonde woman about her own age with short, blonde hair and a sexy grin walking over towards them. "I see you finally found a date for this evening, and such a cute young thing at that," the woman said as she allowed her eyes to roam freely and sensuously over Yumi's body to the point where Yumi's face pinked with a blush, much to the blonde woman's delight. "Isn't Seiko-sama going to get a little jealous? I never took you for a cradle robber. This sweet thing must be all of, what, sixteen?" she asked after the two women had been introduced.

"Twenty-three if you must know," Yumi declared with a huff. She had been mistaken for being younger than her actual years for a long time now, but it still miffed her. Sei just laughed harder as she pulled Yumi into an embrace that left her squeaking in embarrassment. "And feisty to boot! Oh, she makes such cute little 'ohs' and 'ehs' and 'ahs' doesn't she? I may have to steal this one from you, Kaori-sensei," the tall girl laughed as she almost groped Yumi where she stood.

"Be good, Sei-chan," Kaori laughed, "and leave Yumi-chan alone. You have your own girlfriend, or so I hear, so you can leave my date alone."

"Ah, your no fun, Director," Sei-san giggled, giving Yumi one last squeeze before allowing her to regain her footing. Yumi was embarrassed at the woman's extreme public display of affection, but it hadn't been all that bad, she thought with a grin. Sei leaned over and gave Kaori-sensei a quick kiss on her cheek as the older woman playfully slapped her arm but ended up giving her a warm hug at the end.

"You're just the same, Sei-chan," Kaori laughed. "When are you ever going to learn a little decorum? Hasn't Youko-chan been able to put a leash on you yet?"

"Actually," the young woman grinned as she presented her left hand for inspection. A finely wrought platinum ring with a dazzling white, pear shaped diamond set in the bezel adorned her ring finger. "We exchanged our own betrothal vows just last week. We have been working closely together on a little project for a friend and, well, we finally broke down and made it official."

"Congratulations, Sei-chan," Kaori said joyfully. "It took you two long enough. I could see that you should be together back when you were third-year students. Is Youko-chan here tonight as well? I want to congratulate her as well."

"She's in the back room with a few of our friends. Hey," she called out to a waiter that was passing by with a tray of champagne flutes, "we need some over here." When she had ensured that her two guests were provided with a proper libation, she took Kaori by one arm and Yumi by another and started to walk them slowly towards the entrance to another room. "Tonight's new artist is a bit of a mystery, Kaori-sensei, Yumi-san" Sei-san said as they wended their way towards the exhibit room. "One of the main reasons I'm holding the showing is to try to find out a little more about her."

At the threshhold to the second room Yumi stopped dead in her tracks. The sound of a champagne glass shattering on the marble flooring resounded through both rooms.

"No," Yumi whispered, ignoring the shards of crystal scattered about her feet amidst an expanding puddle of fine wine.

"Yumi-chan," Kaori asked worriedly.

"No," Yumi said again, a little louder as she shut her eyes and shook her head, hoping to God that the scene before her eyes was just an illusion. Opening her eyes again simply threw her back into the middle of her waking nightmare. Hung on every wall and on partitions set up in the center of the room were her paintings of Sachiko-sama. All twelve had been beautifully and artfully displayed and lit. Now, seeing them all not only in one single room, but mounted for proper display . . . the shock to her system was too much.

"Yumi-chan," Sei asked with sincere concern for the small girl as she tried to gently take her arm.

"No . . . no . . . _no_ . . . NOOOO!" Yumi wailed as she covered her eyes and turned, shaking off Sei's light grip as she ran screaming from the room.

"Yumi-chan?" Sei called out in confusion, glancing briefly at Kaori-sensei as Yumi fled through the front doors of the gallery and into the night. Kaori took a shocked and worried Sei's hand and walked her slowly over to stand in front of one particular portrait. The last time Kaori had seen this painting had been in a small, 5x7 photograph three weeks earlier.

"Sei-chan, I'm not sure what's going on, but I think I can tell you who your mystery artist is."

"Sei!" Kaori heard a woman scream from across the room. Turning to look, she saw Sachiko Ogasawara collapsed on the floor, staring out the door that Yumi had just run through and being held tightly in Youko-san's arms. There were tears in Sachiko's eyes and her hand was stretched out desperately in the direction Yumi had run.

"Y-Yumi-chan?" Sei stammered in shock.

"Not tonight, Sei-chan," Kaori said softly. "Let's take care of Sachiko-chan here and then _I_ will go and find Yumi-chan. But no one talks to her tonight except me. Understood?" the Academy Director said softly but in a voice that was as hard as steel.

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><p>AN: My sincere thanks for your continued support of this story. Only one more chapter to go unfortunately T_T

Take care,

CX


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: To paraphrase Mr. Buffet: It's Wednesday somewhere ^0^

As a hearty congratulations to Greki for her new job, here is the final chapter for everyone. Thank you all again for your wonderful comments!

Disclaimer: I do not own MSGM or any of its characters. All such honors belong to Oyuki Konno. I will lay claim to this plotline, however ^_^

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><p>Yumi ran through the night, her mind a blank canvas of fear. She had lost her shoes somewhere along the sidewalks of Shinjuku Ni-choume, but it didn't matter. None of it mattered. All she knew was that she had to get away from that place as fast as she could. People along the sidewalk that she passed or bumped into cursed her as she ran in headlong flight from the scene of her worst nightmare. In all the years she had been painting Sachiko's portraits she had never put them all out for display at one time. They were always turned towards the walls of her small studio. Seeing her paintings, <em>all of them<em>, properly displayed had sent a knife of terror straight through her. She would not have been surprised to find out that she had wet herself as she stood in that entryway, staring at the evidence of seven of the most miserable years of her life.

Yumi finally collapsed sobbing, out of breath and out of energy, at a small park somewhere in the large city that was Tokyo. She was lucky that there was no one around to molest her as she huddled next to a small fountain and cried into the night; her wails mixing with the sound of the splashing water. She was even luckier that she had somehow held on to her purse since it carried both her wallet and her cell phone. When she had finally calmed down after an hour or so she called her usual gypsy cab company and had them pick her up and drive her to Kei-sama's.

There she removed the now ruined dress, being careful to take off the string of pearls that had somehow miraculously stayed around her neck, and took a long hot shower until her shivering started to finally slow. She wrapped herself in a warm robe that Kei had given her to use and, after putting her hair up, sat down at her easel, staring at the new portrait that she had finally finished just before the town car arrived for her date that evening. It was the only portrait where she had not crashed after finishing. It was also the only painting she had done of Sachiko where her soft, gentle smile was actually reflected in her sparkling sapphire eyes.

The raven haired beauty was standing once again in front of the now familiar statue of Maria-sama, only this time the scene was early morning. No longer was the background and surrounding scenery hidden in darkness. This time bright sunlight flooded the entirety of the portrait. You could make out the dew on the grass and on the leaves of the hedge of the ornamental garden that surrounded the white, stone statue of the Madonna. The tall, blue eyed girl that was Sachiko Ogasawara stood calmly in front of that statue, a soft smile on her face as she was fixing the crooked scarf of a younger, brown haired student in pigtails with medium brown eyes.

Yumi had no clue why her visions, for the first time in seven years, had finally placed a clear and distinct image of herself in the final painting. In each of the previous dozen paintings, her figure had been only a ghost, a phantom trying but never succeeding in soothing the heartwrenching pain in Sachiko's eyes, that she had eventually painted out of each and every picture. Only an impression, a vague feeling of someone missing would be able to be discerned by the most observant viewer. It didn't matter. It was over. It had to be. This had to be the last one. If it wasn't . . . she didn't dare think about going down that dark path.

She cleaned up her oils, her pigments, and her brushes, throwing most everything into the trash. She put a top on the old coffee can that she had been using to hold her turpentine and affixed a label regarding proper disposal. Finally, she moved the easel and canvas over into a corner behind the front door that was large enough to hold it safely. She was sure someone would come along eventually to claim it.

She then went into her bedroom, changed into a pair of jeans and a button-down shirt, and packed her clothes. She took enough money from her purse to cover the rest of the week and left it, along with a note of thanks, for Kei to find the next time she entered to looking for her boarder.

Gathering the rest of her meager belongings and throwing her gym bag of clothing over her shoulder, she turned and looked one last time at the warm room that had housed her for the past three weeks. She wiped a stray tear from her eye, turned once more and closed the door behind her, slipping out into the night, heading for the airport.

-oo-

Or that had _been_ her plan.

"And just where do you think you are going? Trying to sneak out in the middle of the night, Yumi-chan?" Kaori-sensei asked with a smile where she leaned against the Kato-san's gate.

Yumi's shoulders slumped in defeat. Well, she had tried. "Since I doubt that you will allow me to leave quietly, can I invite you in for a cup of tea, Kaori-sensei," she sheepishly asked the Academy Director.

"Why, I would love a cup of tea, Yumi-chan, thank you," the older woman chuckled. "Did you really think you would be able to escape that easily?" she asked a few minutes later as she sat on the couch in the living room of the cottage while Yumi brewed a pot of chamomile tea for them. Maybe the tea would help to settle her still somewhat jittery nerves.

"One could always hope, Kaori-sama," Yumi sighed. "Do you have any idea how I felt when I walked into that exhibit room this evening to see a sight that even _I_ have never seen in seven years? Please remember that each and every one of those paintings represents a nightmare vision for me. How would you feel if you were suddenly presented with a dozen of your worst nightmares all at one time?"

"I'm very sorry, Yumi-chan," the grey haired woman said gently, "I honestly had no idea what the exhibit was about. Every few months I will get an invitation to a gallery show from Sei-chan. I usually try to get to one or two a year, but I thought that you might truly enjoy it seeing as they don't really have galleries in your home town. I certainly never expected to run into a dozen pieces of your work."

"I don't fault you, Kaori-sensei," Yumi sighed again as she handed the woman a cup of hot tea. "There is no one to blame but myself."

"You are certainly not to blame, Yumi-chan. You are right, there is no way I can understand how you feel. I _can_ say, however, that after taking the time to look over your work, you are even more gifted than I had originally thought. Each and every one of those paintings was absolutely exquisite. You have a true talent there girl, and it would be a sin to let it go to waste."

"At least I have the pleasure of teaching the students in my old school," Yumi said with a sad smile as she sat on the other end of the couch and took a sip of her tea. "It's not much, but it is one of the few things that make me happy."

"Now that I can understand," Kaori said with a grin. "I have never been happier than when I was teaching at Lillian. Oh, I have my moments now and then as the Director, but I still have wonderful dreams of my days as a simple teacher."

"I know," Yumi said a bit wistfully. "When you see the smile on the face of a child that has learned something new, or performed well on a test or a project; when you get that hug of thanks from a happy child; those are the moments you live for," Yumi sighed with a small smile.

"And you wonder why I so desperately want you at Lillian, child," Kaori grinned. "You have the true heart of a teacher as well as the talent to go along with it."

Yumi laughed as Kaori brought the conversation around one more time to her favorite subject of the past three weeks, while Kaori smirked to herself, happy that she had been able to, at least temporarily, get Yumi out of her funk. Too bad it wasn't going to last very long.

"Now, is that something new I see hidden there behind the door, Yumi-chan?" Kaori asked.

Yumi frowned and, sighing in resignation, set her cup of tea on the table as she rose to move the easel back to its previous spot where the canvas could be properly seen.

"Oh, my, Yumi-chan. It's wonderful!" the older woman exclaimed as she stood to get a better look. "Is this what your latest vision showed you?" At Yumi's silent nod, the old teacher stood back and looked at it critically. "I think it's even better than all of the others. It's simple, but so beautiful in its innocence."

"It's not like I had a choice, Kaori-sensei," Yumi said sadly. "I have to paint what the vision shows me or I will go crazy."

"But I looked at all of the other paintings you have done, and there is someone missing in each and every one of them. Did you truly paint everything in your previous visions, or did you purposely leave something, or should I say 'someone,' out of each of them?"

"It would have been the height of conceit to paint myself, even as a ghost, into the same picture as Sachiko-sama," Yumi cried softly, placing her hands over her eyes.

"Nervousness," Kaori said as she stood a little to the right of center of the newest portrait before she took a small, quarter-step to the left, "wonder," another quarter-step, "joy," another quarter-step to her left, "confusion," another quarter-step, "desire," one more step, "it's like a new expression on your face from every different angle you view it from. But why did you finally paint yourself into this picture, Yumi-chan? Why . . ."

"I HAD NO CHOICE!" Yumi wailed as she fell to her knees, cradling her head in her hands as the tears flowed down her cheeks.

"And neither do I," said an angry voice from the open doorway.

Both women turned to see the new arrival. A raven haired beauty with pure venom in her sapphire blue eyes stood in the entry while a number of other women stood grouped behind her.

"We tried to stop her, Kaori-sensei," an embarrassed Sei said from behind the angry woman as she scratched her head.

"You are obviously some sort of con-artist, as talented an artist as you may be. It's too bad you couldn't turn your talent to honest work," Sachiko said in an iron voice as she walked into the small cottage followed by Sei, Youko, and Yoshino. "Youko, please file the necessary paperwork to charge this woman with malfeasance, or fraud, or whatever you can think of that will land her in the jail cell where she belongs for what she has done to me."

Yumi just lowered her head back into her hands, turned her back on the gathering and continued to weep, unable to withstand seeing the mixture of pain of hatred in the beautiful eyes of the woman that was accusing her.

"Sachiko, what exactly has she done to you other than to give you a dozen magnificent paintings," Youko said gently as she looked around the cottage. "From what I can see, she was planning on leaving. She has not asked for a single yen from you, nor from the school. According to Eri-san, she has turned down every offer of employment that has been put before her. Not once has she asked for a single thing," Youko tried to explain.

"What has she done to me? _What has she done to me?_ SHE STOLE MY PETITE SOEUR," Sachiko screamed, her fingernails digging bloody crescents into her palms and tears now streaming down her cheeks at the tornado of mixed emotions swirling through her.

"No, my dear, she didn't," Kaori said quietly into the silence that followed Sachiko's emotional outburst. "She may not have been there when you needed her at the time," the old teacher said as she walked over and took the taller girl in her arms as she cried, "but she didn't steal your petite soeur. She's right here," she finished, turning Sachiko so that she could see the sobbing Yumi, still crumpled on the floor.

"In every picture, every painting, every portrait, she purposely neglected to paint in the figure of your petite soeur . . . because she wasn't there. She was stuck in a tiny school in Ashoro on Hokkaido. What circumstances caused her to be unable to go to Lillian, I do not know. What I do know is that the Lord works in mysterious ways . . . and so does our Maria-sama. For the past seven years, since the fall of her sixteenth year, this poor child has been painting the portraits that are now hanging in Sei-chan's gallery. Portraits of you, Sachiko-chan. She has never met you, never seen you, never even seen a photograph of you, let alone the scenes in which you have been portrayed. But still she painted them.

"Whether from visions, or dreams, or gifts from a certain Madonna that we all know and love, she has suffered for the past seven years painting the portrait of a girl she so desperately loved but never knew. She felt unworthy of painting herself into the same portraits of the girl she loved, but it is this girl that is missing from all of them. Whether holding your hand, her arms around your waist, talking to you, or just being next to you; she should have been in each and every one of those paintings just as she should have been there at the time. But she could not be there, so she was forced to live these moments only through her visions . . . or her nightmares as she calls them. Nightmares because she so wanted to be there with you but could not," she said quietly as she pulled a now quiet Sachiko, her eyes wide with fear, towards the girl she just _knew_ would have been the petite soeur Sachiko had always been looking for.

Kaori made Sachiko kneel next to the pigtailed artist as she continued to sob into her hands. "Do you think that you were the only one who was unhappy all those years? Do you think that you were the only one suffering? I promise you that this poor child had it much worse than you did; because she could actually see you, but never touch you, never speak with you, never know you. You had your friends and your family to comfort you all these years. She had her parents, but no one else. I spoke to her teachers and the principal at her school. As soon as her visions began, as soon as all her efforts turned towards her painting, all of her friends drifted away from her, ostracized her as being too strange. While you have had the strength of your friends and your onee-sama to support you, she only had her mother and father; two absolutely wonderful people that I have also spoken with, but still only family. And she was slowly losing her sanity from the demands her visions were placing on her.

"While you were missing your petite soeur, she was missing her onee-sama. The only grande soeur she ever had was in the portraits she painted. While you cried in the paintings, she cried into her paints. Every night, every afternoon, every weekend, she cried as she painted her portraits of you."

Sachiko looked at the sobbing girl in front of her and her heart pounded in sorrow, and in need, and in desire. Was she truly a scam artist, or was she the petite soeur she had been missing all these years. Her head was telling her that there was no way, despite Kaori-sensei's words, that this girl could have painted those portraits based solely on visions pressed on her by some higher power. But her heart, her heart was crying out to her that this was the girl she wanted. This was the girl she _needed_ by her side. This was the girl that she could finally love, not only as a friend, and maybe not only as a sister.

Without conscious thought she found herself holding out her arms to the crying girl and, as she slowly gathered her to her breast, the girl turned and threw her arms around her waist, wailing on her shoulder, her tears quickly soaking her neck and the shoulder of her dress. But the warmth and caring and desire that suddenly exploded in Sachiko's aching heart made her oblivious to all else. She no longer heard Kaori-sensei, or the sounds of the others in the room. All she heard was the crying of the girl that she now realized she loved more than anyone else in the world. All she felt were the arms that encircled her waist, clutching to her in desperation. It scared her how much she wanted and needed this girl. It scared her how much she wanted to comfort her, and how much she needed to see her smile. It was like seven years of need and want had been focused into a single moment; here and now. And it scared her to death.

But she controlled that fear as she had been trained her entire life, and underneath that commanding emotion she felt the love and caring that she had for this girl. No, Yumi was no longer a girl, she was a young woman; but in Sachiko's heart she was just a scared sixteen year old girl desperate for the love of her onee-sama. And Sachiko's heart matched that desperation with its own love and caring and need for her petite soeur.

Kaori watched the two women as they cried in each other's arms, a smile on her face and joy in her heart.

"Is all that true, Kaori-sensei?" Youko whispered.

"Have you ever known me to lie child?" she smiled in return. "Every single word was God's own truth. I spoke to her teachers, to her principal, and to her parents. I spoke to Yumi and I looked tonight at the portraits she had painted over the past seven years. I may not be an artist, let alone an art critic, but I am a very observant woman. I could tell that someone was missing from each of those paintings, and when I saw this last one," she said as she indicated the newest portrait as it stood on the easel in the center of the room, "I just knew who it was that was missing from all of the others. Yumi doesn't have a dishonest or malicious bone in her body. If she says that the purposely painted herself out of all of those other portraits you can believe every word."

"You know," Sei said, "each of those paintings is a masterpiece. But you know what I would like to see? I'd like to see each one redone, not painted over mind you, but new paintings. But these would show the two of them, along with the happiness that Sachan _should_ have had on her face if Yumi-chan had been there."

"Now that's an interesting thought, Sei-chan," Kaori chuckled. "Do you think that you could possibly find someone to commission such paintings?"

"Oh, I think I could find one, or maybe two," she chuckled as she gave Youko a significant look.

"It certainly might help me talk that young lady into joining the faculty at Lillian," the Academy Director giggled. "I already have her principal's and her parent's blessings."

"You know, you can be a very wicked woman," Sei grinned. "I knew there was a reason I always liked you."

"So, do you think Sachiko-sama will take Yumi-chan as her petite soeur now?" Yoshino asked the three older women. The women looked first at the two still huddled together on the floor before they looked at each other and smiled.

"No, Yoshino-chan," Sei smirked, "they are a little old to be soeurs. However, give them a few months together and they may end up being a lot more."

"Can you ever get your mind out of the gutter, Sei-sama," Yoshino huffed.

"Yoshino-chan, this has nothing to do with sex . . . well, almost nothing," the tall blonde grinned.

"Let it rest, Yoshino-chan," Youko advised her young employee. "Just imagine how you feel about Rei-chan and you might come close to how those two will be feeling about each other very soon."

"Is it safe to leave them like this?" Yoshino sighed. "I really don't want to have to babysit them all night."

"Yes, I think it's safe," Kaori-sensei said with a grin. "They have a lot of catching up to do."

"I agree," Youko said, turning around and pushing Yoshino toward the door. She had to turn back and grab Sei by the arm and pull her along to get her out of the room. "Come on Sei," she smirked, "I'll give you something a lot more interesting to do when we get home than to watch those two cry over each other."

"Ah, now I'll take that as a promise, Youko," Sei grinned evilly with a last glance behind her.

Kaori closed the door to the cottage quietly behind them as they left, an extremely satisfied smile on her face. She highly doubted that Yumi would suffer from any further visions now that she held the real thing in her arms. She decided she could wait until later to talk to Kei-chan about switching the billing on the monthly rent for the small cottage over to Lillian. After all, she had work to do in the morning. It takes a lot of paperwork to hire a new teacher in Japan. Even if all she will be teaching is a high school art class.

* * *

><p>Once again, thank you all for your kind words and support for this story. I promise that I will consider writing a sequel if I can find a way to keep the mystery and suspense flowing.<p>

Thanks you and take care,

CX


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